


The Protectorate Militia of Wol Quaro gains a Ninth Member

by ShinysMindPalace



Category: Stonehearth (Video Game)
Genre: Multi, Other, Unbirthing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-07
Updated: 2018-08-07
Packaged: 2019-06-23 12:37:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,103
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15606459
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShinysMindPalace/pseuds/ShinysMindPalace





	The Protectorate Militia of Wol Quaro gains a Ninth Member

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Baeowulf](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Baeowulf/gifts).



Wol Quaro has few walls and fewer problems, despite its remote location in the midst of the desert. However, of the few problems it has, marauding ogres make up the majority of those problems, if not all of them at times. Today is one of those times as Wol Quaro’s eight-man Protectorate Militia of Wol Quaro (or just the Protectorate) finishes off the camp of ogres that had mere minutes ago been giving them a run for their money. Now, as the militia members scavenge spare healing supplies and valuable wood from the wrecked camp, one of its most valuable members returns from a long-awaited piss.

 

Burrskull of the Red Kiln is the daughter of the ogre now taking charge as khan, and Burrskull thought that she brought a competent troupe of warriors with her. Apparently, she instead brought tissue paper, and the aggressive shredders that ruined her men encircle her, weapons drawn. She sighs, raising her hands.

 

“Is this really how you greet new people?” Burrskull asks, startling the militia around her. “Oh yes, yes, I know your tongue, very surprising. I'm not surprised, in case you can't tell.” She growls, and though it probably wasn’t smart to piss off her opponents when outnumbered, it definitely is satisfying. “What do you want, tiny men? Burrskull Horsecrusher has no need to attack your village alone.”

 

The Protectorate collectively draws to a halt when the senior cleric, a Umas Dau, raises his hand. “Burrskull Horsecrusher, how can we take you at your word that you won't simply return to your people and come to conquer us again some other day?”

 

Ah, honesty. Burrskull should have expected as much from a cleric. Sighing, Burrskull considers the chances of surviving an escape attempt. “… why don’t we make a deal, then? A way to ensure I keep my word. Burrskull will grant your militia men strength and might of ogres, and in exchange, your town will take care of Burrskull, so I have no reason to return to my clan.” Burrskull Horsecrusher of the Red Kiln’s tusks gleam in the evening light, her smug grin brighter than the setting sun. The cleric looks unamused, before a few of the Protectorate come together to discuss their options. It takes several minutes, but Burrskull will wait. If this works, Burrskull may have just found the best way to become Khan – raise her own, hearthling army.

 

The cleric steps forward, a brave look on his face. “We accept, on the condition that you remain here until you have delivered on your promise of power. You can provide, yes?” A brave move indeed, but thankfully, Burrskull can call his bluff.

 

“Yes, but not if you wish for me to still be able to walk. After all, a knight is rather heavy.” The ogre woman explains, patting her pudgy belly. “I make you strong like ogres, but you have to become like ogres to learn. Burrskull makes small humans… less small.” wink.

 

Were it not for the Protectorate’s mandatory training as herbalists and physicians, it might have taken some awkward explanation how it might work. But a few grunts and blushes later, the militia agree to bring her temporary housing in a nearby emptied mine, hogtying her first and carrying her there. The poor knights are exhausted by the time they get there, the clerics watching at the entrance like hawks, the archers beginning to rest so they can take the night time watch. Burrskull is mostly amused by their precaution, even as her legs are unbound in preparation for her end of the bargain.

 

The footmen approach her first, her loincloth tied aside as she reclines against a pile of rubble. “You won't need armor where you're going, human. Get rid of it.” Burrskull barks, and despite agitation from the clerics, the footmen and knights both begin disembarking from their arms and armor. Burrskull takes the opportunity to pull herself free of her bonds, leaving her hands behind her back as the soldiers queue up in size order, smallest first. The footman, a spry young man who introduced himself as Vehlen Kramer, looks nervous. Burrskull smiles, closing her eyes and looking away. “I won't stare. Head first.”

 

It's all the encouragement Vehlen seems to need, kneeling between Burrskull’s thighs as the clerics promptly avert their eyes. Vehlen, despite experience on the battlefield, has little experience in the bedroom, especially in the department of pleasing pussy. However, ogres are magical creatures, like their goblin and kobold friends, and with a bit of concentration, Vehlen finds her quite welcoming indeed. His fingers go first, calloused from the last year’s worth of training, spreading her gently. Ogre men are much bigger in just the cock department than these weaklings, but a Hearthling makes for an appropriately-sized substitute, Burrskull biting her upper lip to muffle a satisfied groan when Vehlen pushes his arms in. She’s softer than silkweed, warm like the sun just before noon, and wet like Vehlen’s only felt in the central font in the heart of town. It's foreign at best, but even the onlookers can feel the pull to comply. Vehlen takes a deep breath, and at Burrskull’s cue, pushes his head and shoulders forward.

 

Vehlen can feel her heartbeat around him, the slight tingle of magic drawing him in, tickling his skin as he makes contact with her. His shoulders fit with little issue, his hands reaching forward, to find an end to this thing, only to come across Burrskull’s cervix. At the same time, his fellow knight, a burly man by the name of Aeurn Czan nudging up behind his comrade. Dwarfed only by the footman and knight women behind him, Aeurn’s strong hands grasp Vehlen’s hips, Vehlen finding himself in the rather conflicting position of wanting to comply with magic, and wanting to be with Aeurn’s cock. Pulling her hands free, Burrskull takes advantage of distraction to use her hands to pull her thighs apart more readily, spreading herself to invite them both in. Aeurn fails to resist her enchantment, but he doesn’t come right away. Instead, he gets down behind Vehlen, kissing his thighs gently, before his hands come up to part Vehlen’s cheeks so Aeurn can at least not take him raw. It wouldn’t be the first time, Vehlen’s hands balling into fists as he resists the urge to moan out of habit. After all, getting caught in the bunkhouses was the worst, so Vehlen is used to not being terribly loud… if only the magic coursing through him was less insistent he progress.

 

Aeurn’s tongue feels better than imagined, especially when Aeurn pushes Vehlen’s torso further into Burrskull, only his cock and ass left hanging out for funsies. Vehlen’s face presses up against Burrskull’s cervix, but he can't find himself wanting to do anything other than let Aeurn have his way, a fire burning in Vehlen’s gut. It's like he hasn’t noticed he can't breathe. Aeurn deems his work done when Vehlen’s toes curl against the cave floor, Aeurn standing and catching his breath before he gets to the meat of the matter. Aeurn barely needs any attention to get himself hard for Vehlen, working the head of his stiffening cock into his fellow soldier. Vehlen couldn’t be happier, moaning into Burrskull’s insides as Burrskull commands Aeurn herself to, “Fuck him like you'll die if you don’t.”

 

Aeurn has a reputation for following orders to the letter, and Vehlen is ecstatic to find that this is no exception. Aeurn’s familiar to him, comforting, and definitely fucking Vehlen into and almost through Burrskull’s cervix. Vehlen doesn’t even care, wishing only that he could reach his own cock before Aeurn does it for him. Vehlen cums faster than he’d like to admit, panting hard as his body relaxes, and Aeurn fucks his ass the rest of the way into Burrskull’s cunt, before cumming as well. Vehlen’s head and shoulders through her cervix, Aeurn gives him a boost at Burrskull’s command, helping Vehlen disappear from view, before following right after him. The ogre’s belly, though pudgy and jiggly, finally shows some signs of being filled as Vehlen is pushed all the way in, Aeurn making a more motivated entry so as to rejoin Vehlen sooner. It's warm, full of white noise, and perfectly soft, inside Burrskull’s womb. Vehlen never thought he'd be so comfortable in some place before, but as soon as he’s situated, he's pushing an arm through the tight sphincter of her cervix to help Aeurn through. Next, the footman Nei Rotomata, a wideset woman with sharp eyes and a sharper sword, approached, a skeptical glare on her face as Burrskull’s belly moves ever so slightly, Aeurn finally disappearing fully inside her.

 

“Hah… come now, it won't kill you…” Burrskull promises, her face flushed from risidual excitement. “I have room for you t-two, but not the others, just yet…” she explains, before Nei concedes that this is what they asked for, but instead of just climbing in, Nei gestures to Zaai, a knight and an upstanding tree of a woman. Zaai comes to sit beside Nei, and the two of them get to work handling pussy like they’d been taught. After all, the younger cleric is quite the pillow princess, giving Zaai and Nei a lot of practice as they lean in, suckling at Burrskull’s clitoris. Burrskull had no idea tiny mouths would feel so different from big mouths, a startled groan escaping her as Nei’s tongue outclasses any ogre, orc, goblin, or kobold who’d ever been down there. Her praises, however, come in her native tongue, lost upon the scrawny Hearthlings, though if they could understand, their faces might redden with the effusiveness of Burrskull’s compliments.

 

Nei and Zaai seem to understand the gist of it, however, as they redouble their efforts to outclass their brothers in arms. Nei and Zaai each push an arm into Burrskull, Aeurn finally joining Vehlen deep inside Burrskull, her belly now visibly distended as Aeurn and Vehlen pick back up where they left off before. Zaai pulls away from Burrskull’s clitoris first, placing a gentle kiss on Burrskull’s vulva, before she holds them apart for Nei. Nei gets the hint, slowly easing her other arm in while continuing to pay dutiful attention to Burrskull’s clit, only finally stopping when Zaai pulls her away and shoves Nei’s head in impatiently. Nei groans, but complies after a few moments, that silky soft heat making her head spin. To Nei’s delight, Burrskull’s cervix seems stretched and willing to accommodate at least one more, Nei’s fingers already pushing through. Aeurn and Vehlen pause if only because trying to enter with so much movement might hurt their container. With that in mind, Zaai helps shove Nei in almost in one go, Burrskull Horsecrusher shuddering and clamping down around Nei. It knocks the wind out of her promptly, but she finds she’s wet from more than just Burrskull’s juices at the sensation. She's never had so many things stimulated at once, it’s a miracle Burrskull can even fit them inside her. Nei thinks she’ll tell the whole village when this is done, Vehlen and Aeurn helping Nei get situated, Burrskull’s belly taut with tension, but maybe there's room for the last one.

 

Zaai, as the last of the party and the biggest, considers her options carefully. On the one hand, she could give thanks to the ogre helping them, but at the cost of delaying her own aid. What a pity. Instead, Zaai turns her head, shouting to the younger cleric (Ahbu Norrok) “Hey! You're not just gonna leave her high and dry, right Ahhhbbi?” the nickname is teasing, a joke based on Ahbu’s first time, but Ahbu flushes anyways and asks her senior companion if she can. Zaai makes sure that Umas says yes with a glare promising doom, and Ahbu leaves her post to get ready. Zaai returns her focus to Burrskull, wrapping her lips around Burrskull’s clit and trying to see how much she can fit in her mouth. Burrskull is proud to note it’s the entire thing, the ogre woman stifling a delighted moan as Zaai swirls her tongue around the base, teasing the tip and underside of the nerve bundle and setting an example for Ahbu. Pulling off when she hears Ahbu approach, Zaai kisses her way from Burrskull’s clit to her swollen slit, ready for her last entrant as Zaai pushes her arms in first, entering Burrskull with slow, reverent care. Burrskull’s heartbeat drowns out any sounds from the outside, though Zaai can hear a few from inside Burrskull’s womb. It's amusing, for sure, Zaai receiving a final bit of assistance, but not from Ahbu. Burrskull’s fat finger pushes into Zaai’s cunt, shoving her whole body forward as the ogre takes control. Zaai finds herself in to her hips in no time, a hand already through Burrskull’s cervix and reaching for help. She finds it just in time, Burrskull’s hips rocking forward, a groan sounding from the ogre as she shoves Zaai in the rest of the way, her belly now distended as far as it can go as Zaai is pulled in, the four hearthlings inside her happy to help one another out. Sure, they haven't all fucked before, but they seem not to care about that much at all, nor do they care about the fleshy cords holding onto all four of their bellies, keeping them alive and very, very active.

 

Burrskull thinks she should get captured more often.

 

 

3 weeks later...

 

Burrskull Horsecrusher of the Red Kiln is the daughter of the new Khan of the Red Kiln. Coincidentally, Burrskull Horsecrusher also happens to be the new khan of the hearthling town of Wol Quaro, or she will be. Didn’t just make a bunch of half orcs for nothing, the Protectorate footmen and knights examining their new forms. Higher muscle mass, slightly reduced tactical ability, highly increased desire to fill out commands. It's all perfect as far as Burrskull is concerned. She's just also exhausted from making them that way, taking a much needed break as the Protectorate reunites with all of its members. Vehlen is the first to speak again after all this, hailing the attention of Umas first and foremost.

 

“Yes, friend?” Umas asks, having been ensuring the rest of the crew hasn’t got leftover fluid in their lungs or other vital areas.

 

“We should take her home. She belongs with us.” Vehlen explains softly, his voice deeper and much more coarse than it had been three weeks prior. Umas looks doubtful.

 

“We need to secure her for transport, Vehlen. Just because she got this far doesn’t mean she won't still betray us when we’re not looking.” Umas warns, Vehlen scowling.

 

“She needs to be home.” Vehlen repeats gravely, Umas scowling back at him.

 

“Can you even walk yet, soldier?” He chides, but in response, all four half orc Hearthlings stand, crowding around their new “mother” protectively.

 

“We can take her, and you too.” Zaai explains, with far more bass to her voice than Vehlen’s. “When she is ready, we will take her home.”

 

Umas looks ready to throw his holy book in frustration, but he takes a deep breath and nods. “Fine. We’ll take her home first.” The half orcs rejoice, cuddling right up to Burrskull’s resting form, Umas fuming and returning to the archers posted at the doorway to explain their unfortunate situation.

 

Within an hour, Burrskull is re-bound (pointlessly, Vehlen insists) and brought towards town. All of the Protectorate members are delighted to see the town fortified against invaders, as though nothing happened while they were away, while Burrskull remarks the town is much smaller than she was previously lead to believe. Sure, its got a fancy statue in a pool of water, but its comprised of three buildings in total, plus a mine. It would hardly do for a starting location, but… agh, she’ll just make do.

 

Thankfully, the town lets her in at the cleric’s word, before Burrskull is brought into the center of town, where an artpiece containing several goblin honor tokens rises next to the crafter’s pit, shared forges and kilns expediting shared work. Burrskull remains bound at the center of town, Umas and Ahbu going to talk to the town’s ruling council, comprised of the eight settlers who founded this town. The council, as one might imagine, is pissed tf off that they dragged an ogre into the middle of town, but with Umas holding a seat on the council, they “agree” to her remaining and helping the rest of the Protectorate in the same fashion as she helped the first four. Umas sends Ahbu to tell her while Umas begins drawing up new plans with the council to revise the building they just planned for building. Thankfully, a space for an ogre was a great thing to do with all that empty space on the first floor, resulting in a sort of shrine around her, with planned iron gates for protection. Whether they are to keep the ogre in, or hostiles out, Umas can't say. Umas only knows that this should be built before Burrskull helps out again.

 

Burrskull Horsecrusher of the town of Wol Quaro, the ninth Protectorate member, couldn’t be happier to still be tied up.

 

 

A week later…

 

The shrine ended up more elaborate than expected, Umas making adjustments to this or that or the other thing nearly every day, even going so far as to lay a majority of the bricks himself. Burrskull was polite about being bound, only asking she be unbound when it came time to feed the militia, a task that would otherwise just be impossible. The footmen and knights stayed almost exclusively by Burrskull’s side during construction, leaving her only when a marauding troupe of orcs and their ogre friend threatened their home for abducting someone so important to the new Khan. The Protectorate rather bluntly explained that no one was abducted, and sent them on their way. Burrskull couldn’t be more proud.

 

Today, she moves in, settling into the naturally-lit desert shrine, built halfway into the mesa its components were mined from. Braziers keep warmth and light at arms reach for Burrskull Horsecrusher, Mother of the Protectorate Militia of Wol Quaro. Burrskull could not be more excited as she lays down, naked in the warmth of the sun and braziers. Her four children are with her, bringing her cushions at her request as she settles in for a long and fun haul, spreading her legs just as Umas and the others enter, making Umas and Ahbu blush, though the archer twins Zeilas and Xeilas remain unfazed. They’ve seen this before, they want to be ready.

 

“Burrsku-”

“Call me Mother. No need to be formal.”

“No! That’s weird!”

“It'll be true if you get over here already.”

“BURRSKULL HORSECRUSHER THAT'S NOT WHY I'M HERE!!” Umas explodes, throwing down his holy tome in rage, much to the shock of everyone else, Ahbu and the twins giving Umas a wide berth.

 

Burrskull scowls, sitting up and looking him in the eye. “You should have said so sooner. What is it?”

 

“I…” Umas takes a deep breath, trying to return to composure. “… I need you to understand I cannot accept. I'm too aged to make this work, from what the healers and I can gather. I don’t want to waste your time with me.”

 

A silence falls as Burrskull looks over Umas’ body. While sturdy for his age, were it not for his healing light, he likely would not be so agile. Burrskull chews on one of her tusks for a moment before she points to Umas. “You will go last, but I will not give up on you.” She states flatly, before lying back down and assuming her position once more.

 

Umas is baffled, quite simply, by her solution to his problem, but perhaps he can use the extra time to convince her not to waste her efforts. In either case, the half orc half of the militia brought a slimy agave paste for lubricant, and a chest for storing their discarded things until they would need them again. Umas, Ahbu, Zeilas, and Xeilas all place their equipment dutifully away, before Abhu goes first, the twins intending to go together, and Umas, hiding in the rear and hoping to be forgotten.

 

Ahbu, over the course of their first dose of help, had become rather well acquainted with Burrskull’s sweet spots, her voice filling the shrine with a rather heavenly echo as Ahbu demonstrates. Ahbu’s hands press to Burrskull’s g-spot as her lips close around Burrskull’s clit, suckling eagerly already. Burrskull’s four children look away in embarrassment, whether embarrassed to be observing, or embarrassed to be enjoying that, is unclear. Lube is provided, and Ahbu’s talented hands ensure Burrskull won't be injured accidentally, before she has to cease her ministrations, pushing her head into Burrskull. Burrskull sighs happily, spreading her vulva manually to help Ahbu inside, before instructing her knights to help with entry. Her half orc children are happy to comply, taking Burrskull’s place so she can rub at her own clitoris unimpeded while Ahbu presses forward. Her cervix is much tighter now, after having been given time to rest, but its still loose enough from its previous encounter that Ahbu has little trouble pushing her hands through, and with a helpful push from Zeilas and Xeilas, Ahbu pushes her head and shoulders through without issue. Burrskull didn’t realize how welcome that weight in her belly had become, finding herself calmed and soothed by the sensation of a tiny Hearthling curling up inside her. She might end up doing this more often than she probably should if the town’s this big… the thought is downright thrilling.

 

Taking a deep breath, Burrskull offers aid to the archer twins, but Zeilas and Xeilas claim they’ve got it. Nervous, yes, but they can handle a bit of nerves. Xeilas gets down first, ‘eek’ing softly at the discovery of just how warm Burrskull is inside, before Zeilas gets down behind him, kissing his brother’s cheek, then his lips, wrapping his arms around Xeilas’ chest, strong arms braced firm around his brother. Xeilas lingers for only a moment more, pulling away at Burrskull’s impatient grunt, blushing as he ducks his head for her. This time, before Xeilas can get his shoulders into her, Zeilas forces his way forward, the ogre in question loosing an embarrassing sort of squeak at the unusual stretch.

 

Breathing deep, Burrskull does her best to relax, assuring her children she was fine, and asking for a little help. It's not a dignified position, to be sure, the remaining two of her children moving up behind the twins. With a slow count, Xeilas and Zeilas get a helping shove, then another, Burrskull’s mouth hanging open as the twins enter her the same way they entered the world – together. With everyone occupied, it would be the perfect chance for Umas to escape, but instead the senior cleric steps forward, a spare jar of lubricant in hand. He's going to make this work.

 

Burrskull never thought highly of the work of clerics until now. It all seemed like golden light and well wishes, not practice manipulating the body, not like Umas and his sage commands. Her children are quick to comply, shifting Burrskull into a more reclined position, before giving the twins another shove. This time, they make it in to their waists, and Umas promptly instructs Burrskull to sit up. It takes a bit of doing, but with a heave of her body, Burrskull sits up, forcing Zeilas and Xeilas in through the motion, her belly bulging out as they work through her cervix. It feels like she can hardly breathe, but after they get settled, Burrskull lies down one more time, panting, “You… too… hah… can't… forget… you…”

 

Umas looks nervous, but Burrskull’s children promptly assure Umas it can't go wrong, and they're living proof. The cleric is lead by the hand, and thanked for his help, be it with words or with touch. On his knees, he pauses before her. Burrskull can feel him hesitate, huffing in irritation.

 

“Umas, I said… I’m not giving up... Are you… going to deny me?” She grunts, still trying to regain her breath, but alas, the Hearthlings inside her seem hell bent on wiggling inside her. “Or… fff… defy me?”

 

“… no, Mother.” Umas replies with a sense of conviction, before he's rewarded by Burrskull, sitting up almost immediately.

 

Grinning, bulging, and panting, Burrskull beams at her brood, before declaring, “It’s time for a celebration!”

 

And all of Wol Quaro will join in, one day.


End file.
